


Cup of Coffee

by Ibelieveinahappilyeverafter



Category: Dude That's My Ghost!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 11:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19375912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibelieveinahappilyeverafter/pseuds/Ibelieveinahappilyeverafter
Summary: “Yo.” The man looked like he had just pulled off three all-nighters in a row and Spencer had to wonder if this was an intern run ragged or a college student trying to cram in a summer semester. Either way, it was little wonder as to how he had ended up in a coffee shop at six in the morning. “Venti with one pump caramel, one pump white mocha, two scoops vanilla bean powder, two shots espresso, and apagotto style. Oh, yeah, and caramel drizzle under and on top of the whipped cream.”Hand half hovering over where he had been about to type in the order, Spencer instead let slip an ugly snort and decided that this guy was either crazy or he himself was being punked. “Dude, are you trying to order coffee or are you a witch trying to tell me how to make a potion?”The man’s sunglasses slipped down to show incredulous eyes that were the color of honey, Shanilla made a squeak like she had just seen God, and Spencer realized that it was probably a bad thing to insult customers.It wasn’t until later that he realized he had insulted the infamous rockstar that wasBilly Joe Cobraof all people.





	Cup of Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, darlings! My, my, it  _has_ been quite the time, hasn't it? For those of you who are knew to my account and didn't know me from my old days, I used to be a big fan of an old show called  _Dude That's My Ghost_. It was by no means a  _great_ show, but it was fun to watch. 
> 
> A few years ago I wrote a story - this story in fact - for the fandom. It was meant to be a collaborative effort among everyone with myself as the one writing it, but, well... Complications arose. I abandoned the story and the fandom for quite the time, but this story has never left my mind. It was my story, after all, no matter what they say. This story was one I wrote, that I planned, that  _I_ made, in the end. The idea, perhaps, did not start with me, but this story will always belong to me.
> 
> So, after much thought and debate, I've decided that it's time to polish this story off, give it a little fixing, and tell it like it should have been told to begin with.
> 
> A couple things to get out of the way for those who remember the original story: 
> 
>   * This no longer takes place in the 80s; because that was a stupid idea.
>   * This is set in California (as in the show) and not New York because that idea was  _even stupider_. 
>   * Billy and Spencer are in no way related (to be honest not even the show wrote them like they were 'distant cousins' and I didn't even remember they were supposed to be related until just this moment). 
>   * There are no ghosts, Billy is quite alive, and all characters are over twenty years of age. 
> 

> 
> With all that out of the way... I think it's time we finished this. 

"No matter how I look at it, this is a terrible idea." And yet, his traitorous mind whispered to him with a voice that sounded like Billy's, that's what makes it such a great idea.

Spencer Wright traced over the weathered plastic of his truly ancient video camera, stickers covering the surface and hiding enough cracks to prove the camera should have stopped working a long,  _long_ time ago. It was years out of date, held together by no more than horror movie themed stickers and a prayer, and should have been tossed out months if not  _years_ ago.

There was no easy way to connect it to his computer, but for what he was about to do, Spencer figured that he only needed his table, a tripod, and the camera itself. It was easy, too, with how long he had been working with camera equipment; over a decade in his twenty-three years of living.

"Here we go," Spencer said softly, smiling as he saw the red light flick on to show the camera was recording. The difference between every other moment before, however, was that the lens was pointed at him. "Alright, then. I guess this is the part where I'm supposed to say 'action' and all that, huh?"

The camera was a nonjudgmental audience, recording him impartially and leaving the fate of the recording in his hands and his hands alone. It was as comforting as it was nerve wracking.

"Right. My name is Spencer Wright and I'm a twenty-three-year-old film student who's studying to become a movie director - specifically for horror movies!" The red light remained on and Spencer knew what he would see if he were to look at the other side of the camera screen.

He would see his hair, a weird light brown and tangled to hell and back, a couple of sun freckles from living in a place like California, and boring brown eyes that were avoiding looking directly into the camera. Really, it wasn't  _his_ fault that he did better behind the camera than in front of one.

"This is entry one of my video journal series that I've been bullied into doing because apparently writing in an actual journal is too cliché for even me." Spencer stifled a laugh at remembering the conversation that had led to him being tucked away in the room he had taken over for his video equipment, computer screens stretched out on the table in front of him and wires leading every which way.

It was a stark contrast compared to the little camera in front of him that was worn down, beaten, and had only cost him a couple hundred when he was in his teens and knew what he wanted to do with his life.

"The date is, uh… September?" Spencer looked around for a moment before grimacing as he patted at his empty pockets. "Okay, phone is, uh, somewhere, so it's definitely just September 2019, for the moment. Uh… It's a Monday? So that's something, I guess."

Tapping his foot for a moment, Spencer sighed as he rubbed at the back of his neck, looking around the dull, neutral colors of the room before his gaze trailed back to the red light. He really wasn't cut out for being on camera.

"So, like I said, I was bullied into doing this. One of my best friends, Shanilla, she said that I needed a way to 'express my feelings and experience emotional relief.'" Spencer made sure to include the quotation marks, staring right into the camera. "And when you inevitably sneak into my studio and watch this, Shanilla, I am telling you right now that I am not emotionally repressed or scared of being vulnerable or whatever else you'll try to repeat from your latest psychology class."

Spencer gave the camera one more glare before smirking. "And Rajeev, when you help your sister sneak in to watch this, know that I have blackmail on you from  _our_ psychology class that we took together. You know exactly what it is, too, so I suggest you stop this video now." Letting his thoughts drift for a minute, Spencer tapped his foot again and pushed out a dramatic sigh.

"As for  _you_ , Billy." Spencer looked at the camera, thinking up a million threats before he rolled his eyes. "Who am I kidding? You'll watch this no matter  _what_ I threaten. Fine, then, but don't be shocked by whatever ends up in these videos because I  _warned_ you. This? Right here? This is a warning."

Spencer could already hear Billy's wild laughter and teasing, and he was smiling before he could stop himself, looking at the ground to hide it as if Billy really was in front of him and teasing him with that almost crooked smile of his.

"To anyone watching these videos who  _aren't_ my horrible friends, then, like I said, this is Shanilla's fault and, by extension, Billy's fault. When Shanilla said these videos would be great proof of my 'humble beginnings' for when I become a famous director, Billy jumped on board. Trust me when I say you can't fight against both of them when they team up. It just doesn't work. At all.

"So, since I'm stuck doing these, I might as well practice getting better at talking to an 'audience' anyways, right?" Spencer gave a rueful smile, almost imagining that he could see the reflection of himself in the lens of the camera. Actually, he might have been able to. "I've already mentioned that I'm working on becoming a movie director and, as of now, I'm going into my last year of college needed to get my film degree."

Pausing for a moment, Spencer thought about the fact that one day these videos might  _really_ be seen by people who would one day love his work. It couldn't hurt to share a little more, in that case. "Right now, I live in California. I don't live in Hollywood exactly, or, uh, at least, I  _didn't_. I used to live about an hour outside of it and back then, last year's summer, actually, I was working two jobs to try and save up some more ,money for college. I was also rooming with my friends, Rajeev and Shanilla, at the time."

That summer had only been a year ago, but it felt as if it had all happened  _so long_ ago. Fall was well underway, he was in the middle of his classes, and that summer, as with all summers, felt like it was both a second ago and forever ago in the way summer always felt like it was too quick and too distant.

"I worked mornings and afternoons in a coffee shop, and I worked nights and sometimes evenings in a late-night diner that was one of those retro places that should have gone out of business in the fifties. The coffee shop is actually where I met Billy," Spencer laughed, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking away for a moment, knowing his face was disgustingly fond even as he tried to hide it.

He could picture the answering smile from Billy himself and how the man would have no doubt wrapped around him and cooed over how 'cute' he was being. Getting himself back together, Spencer gave his best grin towards the camera.

"In case you don't know if you're watching this in the future, the Billy that I'm talking about is Billy Joe Cobra. Yeah,  _that_ Billy. He's twenty-eight, at the height of his career, and just had one of his songs break the record for the longest time spent in the number one spot and aw, jeez, I'm starting to sound like a fan, aren't I? The funny thing is, I had barely even  _heard_ of Billy Joe Cobra when I first met him."

Spinning in his chair side to side for a few moments, Spencer thought back to that morning in the coffee shop. He had been exhausted, irritable, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into a corner and sleep for a few  _centuries_. Shanilla had worked in the same coffee shop with him and she had been the one to first point out just who had walked into their store.

Spencer hadn't known a thing about who he was, though, beyond a vague recognition, and Billy, back then, didn't know  _what_ to do with someone who wasn't tripping over themselves to get his autograph. It had been interesting and confusing for both of them, but, well, it had been the morning to start it all.

"Since Shanilla said I should tell stories about my life and all that, I guess I can tell the one story that made my life  _interesting_ for a while." Spencer spun around in his chair before slapping his hands on the desk to stop himself, laughing when his ancient camera wobbled before holding steady. "Let me just start this off by saying that Billy Joe Cobra is  _not_ a morning person."


End file.
